The Hunting Raven
by Archon of Darkness
Summary: A Space Marine has crashed outside of Loc Lac. This was just a herald of what was to come. Secrets will be uncovered, a city saved from a dreaded beast's wrath, and the mettle of an Astartes tested.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I do not own Warhammer or Monster Hunter. Please take note that I have not played Warhammer, so my lore may be a little off.

The rest of this author's note is for any readers of my other stories. If you are not one of them, please skip this and enjoy the story.

You may notice that I have not updated my stories in a while. That is because my frustration at each has been growing for a while now. Even to the point that the Emperor's Daughter, The Call, and Legacy of the Tainted are all irrevocably, completely dead. A Nation's Sins is on hold for now while I try to decide whether to bother finishing it or just killing it outright. This story (and its possible sequel) will be my last fan fictions. From there, I'll be moving on to original stories of mine (one of which is already started), though I will continue to read the many awesome works of authors on this site.

* * *

A crash resounded through the valley. Spooked Aptonoth fled at their slow pace with frantic cries to each other.

At the valley's center was a massive crater. A large metal object stood erect in the object's center.

Within the object, a mass of armor stirred. After a second it stood, revealing itself to be the hulking, 9-foot form of an Astartes. Servos whirred as his gigantic arm reached back to grasp his heavy bolter. Two golden bird-of-prey symbols glinted on his shoulders. The skull visage of his helmet glared balefully about as he took stock of his surroundings.

Within the suit of powered armor was someone who could be described as a human...well...almost human.

He had been altered to be far stronger, faster, smarter, and longer lasting than any mere human. He was one of the living weapons of the Imperium of Man. He was a Blood Raven. But above all, he was one of the many faithful servants of the mighty God-Emperor.

He was a Space Marine

The Marine glared about with as much severity as his helmet's eyepieces. The drop pod had been completely and utterly devastated. Propulsion and communication systems were well beyond repair, all of the areas containing power and food supplies had been smashed. Only the weapons were salvageable.

Michael nodded. The damage was not as bad as he had feared. As a Space Marine, he could go for days without food or water, his suit could run nonstop for several more decades straight. The weapons were all he really needed.

After he had gathered all of the supplies that were still intact, he raised a fist and smacked it into the door at the front of the pod. The thick metal bowed outward as he struck it again and again. On the tenth hit, the door gave way and snapped off of its hinges, letting the light from outside into the dim, sparking pod.

Several pillars of greasy smoke curled upward from the other side of a nearby hill. Michael frowned. So some of the xenos had landed.

Almost immediately, a hunched over figure lurched its way to the top of the hill. When it noticed him, the massive Ork let out a roar between its tusks and bellowed, "YOU GOIN'A PAY FO' DAT, BOY! I GOIN'A-!"

Michael's heavy bolter spoke once...twice...three times...and the Ork fell silent, much of its body pulped to bits by the explosive shells.

Satisfied, the Astartes continued trudging on until he reached the top of the hill, giving him a vantage point to see the xeno drop pod.

The pod was in ruins. Much of the shoddily constructed armor had collapsed on impact, most likely killing most of the passengers. Several Orks were scattered around the pod, either thrown to the ground and killed on impact or having bled to death. Several other pods were scattered around the landscape, but the scene at each was the same.

As he had expected, no other pods had escaped from the battle barge before its destruction. The killing blow on the ship had been the hit to the pod bay. Michael had been lucky to escape alive. He felt the righteous fury at his battle brothers' deaths rising in him, but he suppressed it as well as he was able. Raging about it now would do no good and possibly even harm. No, he would save it for later.

Michael continued searching the sandy, rolling land for a settlement. That was the whole reason his battle barge had been sent here, to investigate the incredibly weak, yet detectable energy readings detected by a passing passenger liner. The ship had to take a roundabout route to avoid a massive warp storm. The readings themselves suggested a primitive civilization.

The battle barge had been dispatched to destroy the xeno planet...only to find that the inhabitants were human!

Unfortunately, the ship had no time to investigate, as a passing Ork WAAAGH group had apparently detected it.

As Michael trudged on, he noticed a humped figure in the shade of a nearby cliff. Not wanting to waste any more heavy bolter shots, the Space Marine drew the two bolt pistols that he had scavenged from his drop pod.

As he got closer, he realized that it was dead...whatever it was.

The creature was moderately large, with a long serpentine neck. On its midsection was a pair of powerful looking wings and massively muscled legs. The reptilian creature was covered in light gray scales.

A gash had been torn into the monster's flank. Judging from the blotchy scales around the wound, Michael guessed that a disease had taken hold, eventually felling the creature.

Michael had holstered his pistols and prepared to move on when he saw a glint on the ground next to the creature. Curious, he tromped over and picked it up. The object was a large scale about the width of one of his gauntleted fingers, it was a little less than a third as long. Michael tucked it into an ammunition pocked it the pack on his back. One never knew when you could make use of what you find.

Once again, he prepared to move on when he heard the sounds of battle: clanging metal, raw throated yells and the roars of some herd of beasts.

Frowning underneath his helmet, Michael readied his heavy bolter as one of the creatures roared again, the sound transitioning to a loud hooting, almost like that of the howler monkeys that existed on Holy Terra...

* * *

A/N: Before anyone says it, I know that drop pods usually survive crashes without a scratch. But this wasn't a normal situation. That will be explained later.


	2. The Hunt Begins

As Michael came up over the next rise, he was surprised by what he saw.

It had been right to assume that the denizens of this world were primitive, but apparently they weren't as far behind as once thought. The armor donned by the fighters looked ahead of the Medieval Age, but not by much. The weapons, however, were a strange mix of the primitive and the moderately advanced.

One man, who was wearing strange armor that made him look like a walking castle, was firing from a large gun that apparently was a combination of a bow and arrow as well as a gun. The shells it fired were the size of those fed into Michael's own heavy bolter, but their slow speed evidenced their comparative lack of power.

The beasts that they fought against resembled T-rexes. That was puzzling. Michael knew that there were movies of semi-modern worlds with ancient wildlife, though he had never seen them. Was that the case on this world?

Just then, one of the warriors fighting the dinosaur-like beasts was thrown to the ground by one of them. One of the eight largest ones present. The creature reared back to rip him apart with its powerful jaws. The man would not be able to reach his sword (one far too large for him to even lift, Michael thought) before the strike.

The monster's head exploded into a mass of shattered bone and blood. The dead trunk heaped to the ground. The man, his once shining armor now splattered with gore, slowly uncovered his eyes and shakily stood. His eyes, as well of those of every living thing there, were locked on Michael.

Michael calmly lifted his heavy bolter, allowing the smoke from the last shot drift away into the dry wind. Showing remarkable intelligence for dinosaurs, three of the three of the remaining monsters turned and fled, bringing their packs of smaller reptiles with them. The remaining four roared and charged him, correctly assuming him to be the greatest threat.

With a roar of his own, Michael charged down the hill, releasing the pent up fury at the deaths of his battle brothers. The smaller creatures pranced in a circle around him, waiting for a moment to strike. The largest ones simply ran forward.

The first did not die immediately. Instead, the bolter shells tore open its flank, causing the monstrosity's insides to spill onto the ground, cursing it to a long and painful death. The second had its skull shattered by the force applied to it with Michael's fist. Several of the smaller ones simply disappeared in the masses of bolter explosions. The third larger one tried to turn its side to him and body slam him, only to have its chest caved in. The fourth and final one, deprived of its allies and pack, merely jutted its open maw forward.

All too easy.

Michael grabbed its face by the frills on either side and heaved. With a sickening wrench, the beast's entire face came off.

Michael stood panting, not with exertion, but with the thrill of battle. The group of warriors around him simply stared, and with good reason, too. His crimson armor was covered in deep splotches of deeper red, the beasts' blood. The golden eagles on his shoulders were stained with the mess. The man with the primitive gun stepped forward (the leader of the group, if his manner and gait were anything to go by).

"Hot diggity damn," he said in awe. "I don't know who the hell you are, but do you have any idea how hard it is t'kill four Great Jaggis like that?"

Michael said nothing, he merely took note that the beasts were called jaggi.

"No, I do not," he said after a moment. The man gave him an odd look (his eyes were barely visible through his helmet), as did the rest of the group. All except for one, who stood apart from the rest, glaring at him suspiciously.

"You're not from here, are you?" the man asked. Michael shook his head. "Can't get back home too easily?" Another shake.

The man questioned him on a few other things, which Michael obliged him to. It was becoming increasingly likely that he would need allies in this apparently inhospitable landscape.

"So," the man said after another question. "You must've come in an airship, where did it crash?"

Michael hesitated, but decided that "airship" would be the best description of his pod until they saw it. He pointed at the cliff near where the pod had crashed, which was barely visible over the hills between it and his position.

"Right," the man said. Then he turned to the man that had been pinned by the Great Jaggi.

"Matthew," he said. "D'ya think you can bring the airship around? We might be able to repair...wait, what's your name?"

"Michael," the Space Marine said, deciding that no harm could be done in them merely knowing his name.

"Right, we might be able to repair Michael's ship if we can bring it to Loc Lac," the man continued. Matthew nodded before turned and began jogging to the north, in the opposite direction.

The gun-armed man gestured. "Lead the way...But first, let me introduce myself." He held out his hand. "Call me Jazz," he said. Michael shook his hand, enclosing it it his armored gauntlet.

* * *

A/N: Once again, if I've made any errors with the Warhammer part of this story, just tell me. Also, please tell me if you see anything like these: i /i. They are symbols that I have to use when I post chapter on Deviantart, and I may have missed some when I deleted them.


	3. Loc Lac

The Hunting Raven chapter 3

Loc Lac

Michael trudged through the sand.

From what these people had told him, much of this area was desert. Apparently this planet had no more desert than Holy Terra itself, it just had almost all of it concentrated in one area. They had told him much about the world. His many questions about it had prompted one of them to ask jokingly, "What are you, an alien?" His lack of an answer had drawn several odd looks and raised eyebrows. He had the feeling though, that they would not be so easygoing around him if it hadn't been for that stream they had waded through, which had washed most of the blood off of his armor. Even now though, he could see their nervousness at being around a nine foot, armored giant.

As they cleared the last hill, his drop pod came into view. Most of them gasped or cried out. Only two of them didn't: Jazz, and the woman in spiked armor, who had been glaring at him since the battle with the "Great Jaggi."

The former merely stared at the burnt, but still noticeably red, pod. His expression was inscrutable behind his helm.

Finally he turned to Michael and said, "You really are an alien, aren't you?"

The Astartes bristled slightly at being called such a thing, but he quickly suppressed it. It was becoming increasingly obvious that these people did not know of the God-Emperor or the Imperium to any extent.

Michael shook his head. "No, I am human, though I am not of this world."

"And that," another hunter said, jabbing a finger at the drop pod. "Is not an airship. Just who the heck are you, anyway?"

Michael sighed, but ultimately decided that telling them would be for the best. After all, he would need allies in this hostile environment, and they were unlikely to trust him unless they knew something about him. So he gave them a shortened history of the Imperium of Man, telling of the plagues of Xenos that wished nothing more than to wipe humanity from existence.

From there, now that they would be able to understand his story, he told a simplified version of his own story. He told of how his battle barge had been attacked while trying to study their world. The killing shot from the Ork fleet had been the shell that had struck the storage and arming facility for the drop pods, destroying most of them and damaging what was left. All of the Astartes on board had been ordered to depart via their drop pods, this would free up all of the escape pods. Though he had not been able to see for himself, he made an educated guess that the other pods were simply too damaged and either flew apart after being fired out of the ship's cannon or burned up in the upper atmosphere. His own was barely able to survive.

When he had finished, he looked up to see Jazz and the others staring at him. After a moment, Jazz spoke.

"That would certainly explain a few things. But I thought...I've never heard of a place called 'Holy Terra.' We certainly aren't from there...But wait, the books say that we moved from someplace else, so could it?..." His voice began decreasing in volume as he fell into his own thoughts. After a moment he shook his head, as though trying to rid himself of an irritating fly.

"Well, whatever. We can get this all figured out later, once we get to Loc Lac." Michael guessed that "Loc Lac" was the name of a settlement where these hunters were based, if not where they lived.

At that moment, a shadow passed overhead, accompanied by the sound of windblown cloth. Michael looked up, instinctively reaching for his heavy bolter, but he halted when he saw what it was.

It was the most unusual contraption that he had ever seen. The "gondola" of the blimp-like device was shaped like a more aerodynamic version of a boat. Tied to it with with thin looking lines were three large, oval balloons. Two sets of propellers and a large underslung sail moved the airship. Its sail twisted and turned as it drew alongside the nearby cliff.

Michael sighed inwardly, he would have to explain the whole situation again to Matthew on the way to Loc Lac.

* * *

As the airship flew at a respectable speed across the desert, Michael admired the unique view of the landscape that it gave him. It was beyond rare that he flew in a craft that wasn't armored on all sides, but apparently in this world there was little worry of attacks from the air by anything but "monsters."

Michael frowned. The fight of the hunters reminded him very much of the Imperium's constant war. Like the Astartes' never ending fight against the Warp, the hunters' war against monsters could never truly end. Even more so, in fact, since they had no choice but to spare a number of them, as hunting them to extinction could destroy the balance of nature on the entire planet. Without advanced technology, there would be no way to correct that.

The Space Marine shifted slightly, causing the pile behind him to crinkle metalically. Unsurprisingly, the airship was unable to carry the tonnage of scrap that had once been his drop pod. But the airship was more than able to carry everything from the pod that could still be of use, including weapons that he was unable to carry on his own and armor plating scavenged from the hull of the pod itself that, if necessary, could be forged into a new suit of armor for himself.

Before they had left, Michael had also been able to cobble together enough parts to temporarily repair the sensors on board the pod. He had feared that he would waste the two hours it had taken to narrow the focus enough to detect anything outside the system. Luckily, he had detected a single ship, a small freighter, that was making a run close to this system, where he would be able to contact it with his suit-borne vox box. The only trouble was that the ship appeared to be taking a heavily zigzagged path that wouldn't take it close enough to be contacted for another month and a half. Thankfully though, the cobbled together sensors were light enough to be carried on board the airship.

"Thar she blows," Matthew said with a yawn from the bow of the ship. Some of the other hunters grunted in acknowledgment, the others said nothing. Michael could tell that they were still quite nervous though. He stood up, wanting to see what this settlement looked like from the air.

The airship heaved from his shifting weight as he took his first step, drawing nervous, worried looks from the hunters. Michael paused to let the ship steady before walking again, taking slower steps this time.

What he saw below stunned him.

Loc Lac was no mere settlement. It was a full blown megalopolis. Buildings stretched as far as the horizon. None were very tall, but that was to be expected. People of all kinds walked through the crowded streets. Many were obviously armor, wearing strange and exotic hunting gear and armor. The normal citizenry, meanwhile, went about there business as well as their children ran and played through the streets. It was a sight like nothing he had seen before, and not because of its size. There was no sign of the strain or fear that existed in cities of the Imperium. Despite the hordes of monsters constantly clawing at humanity's door, their lives remained clean, free from the stain of blood.

Matthew began to slowly spin the ship as it passed between two stone pillars.

That was when he noticed the tower within the city.

Its size was immense! It was a far cry from any skyscraper in a modern city, but it did not seem to have been built at all. It seemed to be made almost of bone. Near the bottom, it began to take on a turquoise hue...

Turquoise? That reminded him of the scale that he had found. He would have to ask about it later.

The airship slowed to a position beside a large, flat building. When it had stopped, several people in tan clothing walked up and began unloading the supplies that the hunters had brought with them. The men paled when they saw Michael. He smiled slightly, knowing that, especially with his helmet on, he did look quite intimidating.

Jazz spoke to them about where to take the hunters' supplies. When they reached Michael's large pile, they looked nervously to him.

"Where do you want them to put your stuff, Michael?" Jazz asked. "Since you'll apparently be stayin' for a while, I c'n set up a guest room for ya. Mind if they put it there?" Michael shook his head.

* * *

As they continued unloading the supplies, Michael and the hunters began to walk toward the center of this section of the city, through a partially shaded tunnel with shops on either side. The shopkeepers and their potential customers stopped and fell silent as he walked by. They did not venture above a whisper even after he had passed.

Soon they came to a large circular room, apparently a bar of some kind. Hunters of all kinds sat at the tables talking, yelling, laughing and drinking. Thankfully, they detoured around that area to a hallway next to the entrance, soon coming to another room. This one was apparently for planning. A group of hunters stood around a table with a map on it. The room fell silent as Michael walked in. The apparent planners, a man wearing similar castle-esque armor to Jazz, a woman wearing waving blue armor, and another man wearing green armor similar to that worn by knights on ancient Terra.

The man in castle armor was definitely a veteran. His dark face bore the hard lines of past conflicts. A narrow scar ran from below his right eye to above his left. The only thing left untouched was his flowing silver hair.

"Well, Jazz," He rumbled in a deep baritone. "I'm gonna guess that you succeeded. Now how are you gonna explain how you found ihim/i."

* * *

Jazz finished the tale.

Everyone in the room was stunned, to say the very least, and soon began muttering amongst themselves. They silenced when the castle-man stood up and walked over to Michael. He was tall for an unaltered human, nearly seven feet, but was still much shorter than the Astartes.

"Well Michael," he said after a moment. "It would seem that you're stuck here for a while. In the meantime, we've been a little shorthanded with all these quests on our to do list. How'd you like to be a temporary member of the Rathbane?"

Michael thought for a moment. A chance to fight as he normally would instead of merely waiting around for the freighter to arrive? He wouldn't miss it for the whole of the Imperium! He nodded.

The man cracked a small smile and held out his hand. "You can call me Thardus," he said. Then he pointed to the three others behind him. "These are my elite squad, the ones who were with me when we first started the Rathbane. They're Marina," the woman who kept glaring at him, "Max," the man in knight style armor, "Cydni," the woman in blue armor, "and I believe that you've already met my brother, Jazz."

Michael nodded. He noted that the people around him were still nervous. He decided that now was not the time for intimidation and took off his helmet.

He was an altered human, true, but he was still human. His hair was not long. The brown strands had been cropped short to a flat top. His skin was white but bore a few small scars. Small wires ran visibly from small metal bases on his temples to his eyes, allowing for his heavily enhanced vision.

Thardus recognized the gesture and smiled briefly before frowning.

"You know, you're gonna need some cash," he said. "You wouldn't happen to have any on you, would ya?"

Michael shook his head. Astartes had no need for money, and he doubted that the Imperium's currency would be of any worth here. Then he thought of the scale, perhaps he could sell it for something. He took it out of the pack on his back and showed it to Thardus.

"Does this have any market value?" he asked.

A collective gasp ran through the hunters in the room. Thardus and his elite stared at the turquoise scale with wonder and awe. The leader of the Rathbane carefully took the scale in his hand.

"Does this have any value?" Cydni said in an awed, disbelieving voice. "Boy, do you even know what this thing is?"

Michael shook his head, confused. Thardus let out a laugh.

"My friend," Thardus said jovially. "You have just become one of the richest men in Loc Lac. This little jewel here is a mohran jade scale!"

The Astartes stared at the scale, unsure of what to say...

* * *

**A/N: Once again, reviews are welcome. And please tell me if you see any wierdly placed letters (i or /i).**


	4. Enter the Mimic

The Hunting Raven chapter 4

Enter the Mime

Michael heaved as his armful of equipment landed on the desk. Swords and hammers clanged against a few axes. It felt very odd, having money. It felt even wierder, however, being able to pick out his own weapons.

Of course, his selection was much more limited than that of the other Rathbane members. He could afford to buy any weapon that he wanted, but he chose not to waste cash and bought items that weren't cheap, but were useful all the same. But he was not able to use any of the available lances, bowguns, longswords, or short swords.

The first lance that he had tried out had bent backwards as though he had peeled it like a banana with the first hit. The bowguns' finger guards were too small for his gauntlets. One look at the gossamer thin longsword told him that it would snap with the first blow. The short swords disappeared into Michael's gauntlets when he held them, while the shield would function better as a knee pad than protection for the rest of him.

That brought him down to switch axes, hammers, and great swords. He had gotten several of each. As for which one to use, he would have to know what hunt Thardus was going to suggest for him.

At that moment, Thardus appeared in the doorway of Michael's guest room. He did not look happy.

"What is it?" Michael asked calmly.

"It's that damn Guildmaster," Thardus replied tersly. "He didn't believe me." Michael wasn't surprised by that news. "And he won't even isee/i you until you've completed the latest urgent!"

The Astartes frowned. "What would that be?"

"Qurupeco," Thardus answered. "It shouldn't be too hard, especially for you, just...aggravating."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

Thardus launched into a dissertation about the abilities, temperment, and habitat of the birdlike reptile called the Qurupeco. He also explained the rules of urgent hunts and quests. They were lenient, all things considered, all that had to be done was complete it without undue injury to the hunter attempting to increase his or her rank.

"At least the 'master trusts me enough not to send one of his advisors. With you bein' the main hunter, it could've complicated things."

Michael could definitely see how.

"Well then," Thardus said abruptly and loudly, clapping his hands together. "Grab your stuff while I get the group together. It's time to go huntin'."

* * *

The four man (three men and a woman, with Cydni) group watched from afar as their wyvern prey strolled around its territory, head jutting forward slightly with each step. Cydni, Jazz, and Thardus used binoculars. Michael had no need for them, his enhanced eyes could see the monster clearly without them.

"Alright," Thardus said as he lowered the binoculars. "Here's the plan: Cydni, you need to-"

"-I will kill it myself," Michael interrupted.

The Rathbane leader looked at him disapprovingly, obviously also miffed about being interrupted, but only said, "If almost anyone but you had said that, I'd have told 'em to shut up and listen...Fine, you c'n go ahead in. But we're gonna wait here just in case."

The Marine nodded. Though he knew that Thardus had acquiesced because of his strength, it was also wise not to order a Space Marine unless you were his superior.

Michael moved down the hill toward the flying lizard, which paused to look at the knew arrival. It twisted its head from side to side with a chicken-like clucking. Its scaled feet shifted in a small jumping motion on the sandy soil.

With a deep breath, Michael drew his Hi-volt axe. Its twin blades slid forward with the click of a switch on the handle.

The 'peco flinched and recoiled backwards, showing remarkable intelligence as it recognized the gesture. The beast's mood completely changed. Its fan-like tail flared out, showing the red skin connecting the three bones to each other. The red pouch on its chest became a deeper shade of the color and inflated. The Qurupeco then raised its head to the sky and made its call-

-No, a call. It certainly wasn't the monster's. It was a scream that pierced painfully through Michael's eardrums. The volt axe dropped to the soft ground as he clapped his hands over the sides of his helmet.

When the ringing had finally stopped, he quickly picked up the axe, expecting an immediate attack. Instead, the creature was just sitting there, almost as though it was waiting for something...

That was when the ground started to rumble.

Before Michael could react, a massive, tan figure burst out of the ground, flipping him a couple dozen feet into the air. He flailed his arms and legs as he attempted to control his flight. Being launched into the air was not something that Astartes were used to.

What happened next was both lucky and unlucky: it was lucky for Michael, but very unlucky for the two monsters. He landed head first into a spot of soft sand. It was lucky for him, because it meant that he wouldn't have a wounded neck. However, it was unlucky for the monsters because it meant that he sank into the sand head first, ending up in a position similar to a sleeping ostrich.

The Qurupeco began hopping up and down and making a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter. The much slower Diablos merely cocked its horned head in confusion.

Michael grunted and picked himself up before glowering at the Qurupeco and Diablos. They were indeed very unlucky.

There was nothing in the universe more dangerous than a pissed off Space Marine.

Michael charged forward with a roar unlike any he had given before as he flipped the switch on the axe's handle, changing it to a sword. With speed disproportionate to his size, he swung it in an uppercut as blue bolts danced along its length.

Too late, the Qurupeco danced backwards even as the now spinning teeth of the blade made contact with its jaw. With the grinding of metal against bone, the bird-reptile's head was sawed in half from bottom to top. Its blood was vaporized mid-air by the megavolts of electricity being emitted by the sword. The dead trunk and both halves of its head crumpled to the ground without a sound.

Michael brought it back to his side with a savage grin, liking how much the Hi-volt axe was similar to a chainsword. He looked over to the Diablos, who just now realized that Michael was still a threat.

But then, Diablos weren't smart, but they also weren't quite ithat/i stupid. The bat-like monster took off and flew to the west, toward the edge of the plains and into the Endless Desert.

Michael walked over to the dead Qurupeco, which was now surrounded by a pool of its own blood. With one hand, he tore off one of the flinty claws on its wings, proof that he had defeated it. He then turned to his teammates.

Their faces had gone completely pale, which was quite a feat for Thardus and Jazz. However, this was nothing for Michael. He was a Space Marine. He had faced off against the worst that xenos and Chaos alike could throw at humanity. Certainly no mere monster was greater than his abilities.

Soon enough, however, he would find out just how wrong he was...


	5. Unwelcome Revelations

The Hunting Raven chapter 5

Unwelcome Revelations

The tavern became much quieter as the Rathbane entered. Only the most drunk hunters at the tables talked in anything above a whisper. Sitting on the counter on the far side was a short, pale, mustachioed man. He was too engrossed in whatever he was writing to notice the change in atmosphere.

He was not, however, engrossed enough not to notice that the table vibrated with each of Michael's steps.

His mustache drooped slightly when he saw Michael, luckily his face didn't seem able to become any paler.

"Is that-" he started.

"Yes," Thardus interrupted, smirking.

"Why didn't you-?"

"I did tell you," He interrupted again.

The Guildmaster closed his mouth, looking a bit miffed. Then he looked up (way up) to Michael's helmeted face.

"I-I'll n-need proof o-of-" He began. But he was interrupted yet again by Michael slapping a triangular, ribbed hunk of rock on the counter, the flintstone.

The Guildmaster took the stone with a look of awe. The small bones and feathers still clinging to it was strong evidence of the fact that it had been ripped off of the Qurupeco with bare hands, rather than cut off with a carving knife. He wordlessly handed a slip to Michael, verification that he was now a full hunter.

Normally this would not be the case, he would have simply been promoted to the second rank. But the situation was far from a normal one.

"What will we hunt next?" Michael asked as he, Thardus, and Cydni left the Rathbane's quest planning room. Michael had to turn sideways and duck to fit his armored bulk through the doorway.

"We'll decide that tomorrow," Thardus said with a yawn. "Right now, all I'm doin' is gettin' some grub and hittin' the sack."

Startled, Michael looked up and realized that the sun had already set. He had lost track of time.

Cydni gave a long, loud yawn. "Well," she said, not just to Thardus, but to the other hunters leaving the room as well. "I'm going by the tavern. Anyone else comin'?"

Most of them declined, Thardus included, looking too tired to want to eat anyway. Jazz refused, though Max was willing to go.

Cydni turned her attention to Michael as the others left. "What about you, big guy?" She asked.

He shook his head. "There is no need. Space Marines can survive for days without food, several weeks in emergencies."

But Cydni was insistent. She shook her head, golden hair flowing across her face in the process. Her deep blue armor clinked at the joint between the neck and shoulder armor. "Even if it's just a snack, you need to eat something," she said. "You can isurvive/i without food, but this isn't the wilderness. You can stand a bite to eat."

Michael thought for a moment, but decided that she was right. Perhaps it had just been his instincts, as this world was light years behind the Imperium. He nodded to her and followed the group of hunters.

* * *

Cydni's frown became palpable despite the fact that her back was facing Michael. He looked toward the table that she was glaring at.

Sitting there was a group of hunters in the most ridiculous armor that Michael had ever seen. The men all wore armor that looked like crude copies of Space Marine armor that was painted gold. The women wore even more ridiculous armor. It looked like...rhino hide? Yes, it looked like rhino hide that had been painted pink, with a laughable helm that resembled a teddy bear.

Michael leaned down and asked, "Who are they?"

"The Gilden Claws," she said tersely. "Hunters in name only."

At that moment, one of the men in golden armor noticed them, he pointed the Rathbane group out to his comrades, saying something to them that Michael couldn't hear. Abruptly, their entire table erupted into a fit of roaring laughter. Cydni's expression darkened, and she walked over toward a free table on the other side of the Tavern, the rest of the group followed, scowling similarily at the Gilden Claws. Michael stared at them, his expression inscrutiable. One by one the 'Claws fell silent as they noticed his gaze. When their table was finally silent, he trudged after his newfound comrades.

Cydni was standing there with a man who appeared to be the waiter. Each of the other hunters then spoke, apparently placing orders. Michael couldn't hear them over the racket of the others in the Tavern, they were either too drunk to notice, too engrossed in conversation to notice, or (most likely the way Thardus and Cydni would be) simply didn't care.

Presently, Cydni continued talking and jerked her thumb behind her, in Michael's general direction. The man blanched, but nodded and walked off. Seeing that Cydni was still in a bad mood, Michael decided to wait until after they sat down to inquire further about the "hunters in name only."

As it happened, he spent the next few minutes marveling at the fact that the wooden bench hadn't shattered under his weight.

Cydni's expression once again darkened when Michael asked.

"They're not really hunters," she said. "For several reasons, actually, not the least of which is that they're just a bunch of rich kids that decided to get some armor and act tough. They bought the materials for the armor they wear. The rule of thumb for hunters: you're only worth as much as the armor you forge, yet they gathered nothing, therefore they aren't worth anything."

Michael waited for her to continue, but the waiters had just arrived with their food. The smell wafting from the gigantic slab of meat in front of him was intoxicating. He noticed that a few of the other hunters had bowed their heads. Were they…praying? A hint of a smile came to his lips as he bowed his own in prayer to the Emperor. So these hunters weren't exactly servants of the God-Emperor, but neither were they heretic bastards of Chaos.

Once they had finished eating, Cydni spoke again. "There is also another reason, they…" she stopped, looking troubled. After a moment, she took a breath and began again.

"Do you know how Thardus got his scar?" she asked. Michael shook his head. "Well, you see-"

Max seemed to choose exactly that moment to slump onto her shoulder, interrupting her. She pushed him off and looked at him, frowning. Michael noticed that his eyes seemed a bit unfocused.

"Max," Cydni said in a hard tone. "You're drunk again!"

"Wha?" he asked, momentarily confused. Then he understood. "N-No, I a-ain't drunk. I'm good, Squi-eh…Cyd'."

Cydni rolled her eyes. "Alright, how many Golden Brews did you have?"

The Rathian armored hunter screwed up his face as he tried to remember. "Eh…four 'r five…I think…B-bu-but I'm sober, I tell ya!"

"Fine," Cydni said. "Then tell me, where are you?"

His face tightened again as he looked around, then said uneasily, "…Uh…hash browns?"

"That's it, to your guest house."

"Aw, come on Squi-"

"Go!"

Max slumped slightly and got up before wobbling uneasily toward the exit.

Once he had left, Cydni turned her attention back to Michael, but surprised him with an unrelated question.

"Michael, why do you hate aliens?"

The Astartes was caught a bit off guard by the question. Once he regained his composure, he answered simply. "They wish to destroy humanity, so they deserve to die…all of them."

Cydni recoiled slightly at the vehemence of the statement, then looked even more troubled. "All of them?" she said. "Including women, children, and the ones who aren't even military?"

Michael shrugged and repeated his statement. The other shook her head angrily.

"How can you say that?" she said in a quiet, deadly voice. "I don't care how many times they've attacked you, not every last alien deserves to die. There are innocents!"

A scowl deepened on Michael's face. "Among xenos," he said. "There are no innocents. The same goes with the bastard servants of Chaos and all of the Throne damned hereti-"

"Heretics?" Cydni interrupted. "Like who, me? Am I a heretic just because I don't kiss your damn Emperor's ass at all times of the day?"

Some Astartes are known for their patience and ability to control their anger, and Michael was one of them, but this was far more than even he was able to stand. He surged to his feet, face contorted with righteous fury, and his fist raised for a killing blow. But there was one thing that stopped him.

Cydni's facial expression.

It would have meant nothing had it been fear, he saw that on a daily basis in battle. No, the look on her face was smug satisfaction. He just had to know…

"Why?"

"Simple," she said. "You can learn a lot about a religion and the people in it by insulting their God. Do they argue with you, or do they just try to kill you? Now I don't doubt that you could kill me if you really wanted to, but doing that would simply prove my point. Almost the entire reason that I have respect for Thardus is that he passed that test. But you, my friend, have just failed it."

Michael's anger was undiminished, but her words struck a chord in him. For what was probably the first time in his life, Michael began to truly think about what he believed. He began to question what it truly meant. Not once did he have the heretical thought that the Emperor Himself was wrong. But could it be possible that those who interpreted his Words had been wrong? There were so many implications.

Cydni stood up from the table. "I'll leave you with one last thing to think about. When you have met every alien man, woman, and child, then maybe (just maybe) I'll believe you. But until you do that, ask yourself this; are the "xenos" really the bad guys here?"

Michael sank into his seat as Cydni stalked off, her Lagiacrus armor nearly black in the dim torch light. The other Rathbane and other hunters had left a while ago, as had the Gilden Claws. Michael was alone save for a few drunks asleep in their seats.

He closed his eyes. He did indeed have much to think about…

* * *

A/N: Ok, my honest opinion is that my writing quality sorta went down with this chapter. Don't worry, though, it won't happen again.


	6. The Creeping Venom

The Hunting Raven

chapter 6

The Creeping Venom

_Michael looked slowly up toward the blood red sky. Smoke covered much of it. The terrific stench of the xenos plague abounded through what little remained of the Tau city._

_As usual, Michael was working alone. He holstered his bolt pistols, smiling at the satisfying clink that they made when the armored pockets touched the chainsword on his back. His gauntleted fingers closed gently around the hilt as he drew one of the most feared (for good reason) weapons in the Astartes' arsenal, though it wasn't the most powerful._

_The chainsword._

_He squeezed the handle, starting the weapon. Its gray teeth spun for a moment, flinging off flakes of dried blood, before Michael shut it off, reassured that it was still in working order._

_Suddenly he froze as his instincts kicked in. He did not move his head, but his eyes were fixed on the small dwelling on the side of the road, the cybernetic optics zooming in on the spot. He had seen something move. He began inspecting his sword as though he had frozen due to an odd sound in it. But though he moved his head as though he was looking at it, the Space Marine never took his eyes away from the house._

_A second later, something flickered by the moderately large hole blown into the side of the house. Michael smiled, xenos. Whether it was a soldier or civilian, they were dead either way._

_Though Michael knew that he would most likely be able to overwhelm and kill whatever was inside, Space Marines took nothing for granted. He made a diagonal line off of the road, on the same side as the house, but curved to the north of it. Then he doubled back once he reached the grass, which covered his clunking footsteps much better than pavement._

_Michael crept up to the door of the building. He waited for a moment, then broke it down with his fist. A scream filled the air as he searched the room. Almost instantaneously he found the source._

_Two figures huddled at the center of the main room, a pile of apparently scavenged supplies lay at their feet. The Tau woman clutched a child close to her, the latter looked no older than ten or twelve human years._

_A bloody grin appeared on Michael's helmeted face. The red chainsword revved as he raised it above his head._

_Abruptly, the scene changed. The house became familiar, the skies blue, and the Tau…human?_

_Michael tried to lower his arms, but they wouldn't move. He looked up to them, only to receive a shock. His gauntlets and armor had turned black, black as the night._

_Black as Chaos._

_"No!" Michael tried to yell, but his voice caught. His hands raised higher for the blow. The human mother lifted her hand as a futile shield, her face tear stained._

_"NO!" Michael screamed as his hands fell. Pain exploded through his head, a crimson wash spread accross his vision._

Michael blinked. It took him a moment to notice the red carpet in front of his face. His head felt like someone had hit him with a Thunder Hammer.

Slowly he got up off the floor, which was when he noticed the pajama clad Rathbane in his room. The room itself was torn apart, with several holes in the walls, the expensive Barioth curtains rent to shreds, and the many ornaments around the room smashed. It looked like a gorilla had torn through the room.

Or a sleepwalking Astartes.

As he got up, Michael noticed that Cydni had a rather large, blue hammer with iron studs on the back of it slung over her shoulder. After a moment, he remembered that it was an Iron Impact, a weapon that both he and Thardus had in their arsenals.

She handed the weapon to Thardus, who looked rather nonplussed.

"Y'see," she said mildly. "I told you that would wake him up."

Michael removed his helmet, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head. Not a Thunder Hammer, but by the Throne, it was close enough! Cydni seemed to have quite the arm as well...

A hand slapped against the lower part of his shoulder, hard enough that he could feel the hint of a vibration through the armor. "You gonna be a'right, kid?" Thardus asked. "That must'a been quite the nightmare you were havin' there."

"Astartes do not have nightmares," he said uselessly. Even to him the words sounded hollow, and he knew that they were false. Many things had been thrown into doubt lately...

Thardus just gave a grunt and walked back toward the door, stretching while doing so. His corded muscles bulged against the red t-shirt that he wore. "Well," he grunted. "It's morning anyway, planning in two hours everybody."

As Cydni and the others filed out of the room, a woman stopped Thardus. Michael sat down on his bed and closed his eyes, but he kept his eyes tuned.

"Do you believe me now?" she asked. Her voice had a heavy, asian-like accent. "You just saw that he is extremely unstable among other things. And you heard what Cydni has already said about him. He would kill us all without a moment of hesitation!"

"Let me get this straight, Marina," he said dangerously, a tone that Michael had never heard him use before. "You think that we should alienate the one man in the entire world who could singlehandedly wreck this entire city if he wanted to?"

Marina could be heard shifting uncomfortably. After a moment, Thardus spoke again, "I wasn't born yesterday. I know full well what he's capable of. But he might just hold the one thing that this world is missing. An explanation."

There was a moment of silence, then a ventured, "An explanation for what?"

"Why are we here?" Thardus said simply. Then he walked away.

That left Michael a little confused. "Why are we here?" What did he mean by that? Though the Astartes knew himself to be far from unstable, Marina must simply be one of the distrusting type.

He opened his eyes a crack, looking out the yawning window, past what was left of the curtains. The Loc Lac Lake (or simply "triple L", as Thardus called it) glistened in the early morning sun. Fog covered the landscape, but the heat of the day would soon make it disappear.

He sighed, resigning himself to the two hours until the quest planning…

* * *

"Good, now everyone's here," Thardus announced as Michael squeezed himself in through the door. He nodded toward the group of "newbies," some of them were in the hunting group that Michael had met on the day of his arrival. They all wore weaker armor than the senior or intermediate members of the Rathbane, but from what he had heard about them in the Tavern, they were a force to be reckoned with.

As they left (Michael noticed a not too happy Marina with them), Max, Cydni, and Jazz gathered around the map of the region on the table. Cydni gave the Space Marine a significant look through her helm. Though Michael's helmet faced her, he did not meet her gaze beneath the eyepieces.

"Right, so," Thardus continued, not noticing this. "Just got a request from a good friend o' mine. Seems there's some trouble up'n the Tundra. A Gigginox has been spotted in th' caves near th' preserve."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Cydni said. "We've been there a few times before."

Thardus blinked. "I don' think ya understand here, Cyd. This is _way_ up in the Tundra.

She blanched slightly. "You don't mean…"

"I mean it, I'm talking booger freezing here." Max nodded in agreement, then winced. It seemed that he hadn't entirely recovered from last night. Cydni shivered, her armor clinking together.

Michael could understand why she wouldn't want to go to a tundra. Her armor looked powerful and had an excellent hydrodynamic design, but it left much to be desired with cold.

At the same time though, Thardus' armor was thick, light, and flexible, but wouldn't fare any better, why didn't he mind? No temperature was a worry for the Astartes due to his powered armor.

He thought back to the guide that he had read about many of the monsters on this world. The Gigginox was an unholy combination of creatures. It had the general body of a leech, the arms and legs of a frog, and the wings of a bat. Though it usually dwelled in the frigid caves of the Tundra, its legless offspring lived wherever there was either water or a cave.

Thardus gave a wry smile. "Better bring sum hot cocoa then, Cyd. 'Cause it's gonna be a cold one."

* * *

A loud crunch sounded as Michael's armored boot touched the ground. His head swiveled as he took stock of his surroundings.

The base camp was covered in ice, as was the airship loading crane. Not only that, but Max had quite the hell of a time trying to maneuver the airship into position. Unlike the camps on the plains and other areas, this one was not situated on a cliff (which made docking ships easier), but placed by a glacial river instead.

The other three hunters stepped off after him. Thardus and Jazz had both changed their armor to adjust to the area.

Thardus wore dark green armor, spikes protruded from the shoulders and the chin of the helm. On the waist was a golden plate that almost resembled a wrestler's belt. The silver jewel on the chestplate seemed to be the Vangis armor's crowning piece. It seemed highly effective at keeping out the cold, and it looked strong enough to repel a lascannon blast.

Jazz wore a combination of armor. His helm and vest were dark blue. The vest curved sharply upward at the shoulders. The helmet possessed a small, curved horn on either side. Apparently, though, he violently refused to wear any Dober armor but the vest and helm. Michael had never seen the rest of the armor, so he did not know why. But the rest of his armor was Qurupeco. It wasn't as effective in the freezing temperatures of the tundra as Dober armor, but it was far from weak due to the armor spheres that had been melted over it.

Unfortunately, Cydni only had one set of armor…and what she had certainly wasn't suited for these subfreezing temperatures. She stood shivering nearby, arms wrapped around herself. Max, on the other hand, merely looked mildly uncomfortable. His Rathian armor was relatively insulated against the cold.

Thardus gave a luxurious stretch, then said, "A'right, everybody ready?" Everyone but Cydni nodded. After looking at her for a moment, Thardus walked over to a blue crate near the base camp's tent. He took out a small, red bottle and tossed it to the other hunter.

Ripping off her helm, Cydni popped the top off of the steaming drink and chugged it.

"Better?"

"Better," she said.

"Good, a'right people, let's roll," Thardus announced. With that, everyone walked to the north, toward the depths of the mountainous tundra…

* * *

"Somebody light up," a deep, disembodied voice said off to the right.

"Aw, come on bro, you know I don't smoke!" said another. A smack followed afterward, followed by the voice yelling, "Ow!"

Michael shook his head with a sigh. To find the Gigginox, the group had to search through the tundra's numerous caves. Through the entire journey, Jazz's sarcasm hadn't ceased. It was quickly becoming a grating annoyance.

There was the faint tinkling of armor, then Cydni said, "Alright, I found my torch." More tinkling. "Ah, shit! Where'd I put those matches?"

"Well hurry up!" Max chimed. "I swear I'm gonna run into so-" ithunk/I "Ow, damnit!"

Everyone stopped walking. "Are you alright, Max?" Michael asked.

"Mmf, ow…Yeah…yeah, I'm good…Ow, sheesh, dang stalagmite got my nose…Just hurry up with that torch, Cydni."

"I can't find the damn matches!" she exclaimed. "Hey Michael, you got a light?"

"I do," he answered, turning toward her voice. "Hold it out in front of you."

He waited a moment, then reached to his waist holster and pulled out a device that resembled a crudely put together bolt pistol. Of course, it really wasn't. But matches were simply too small for him to hold.

With a press of the trigger, the device belched forth a gigantic plume of flame, lighting up the entire cave for a few moments. Everyone looked exactly as they did a second before, not having enough time to react to the sudden gout of fire. It looked almost comical.

Then, as suddenly as it came, the flame disappeared.

It was silent for a few moments; even Jazz didn't make a joke.

"Eh…thanks," Cydni finally said in a slightly shaky voice, her armor glinting brilliant azure in the torch's newborn flame.

"You are welcome," Michael said coolly as he put the flame pistol away. He made a mental note to tone down the incendiary power when they got back to Loc Lac.

Then, just at the edge of the artificial twilight, an icicle fell. Michael instantly snapped the blazing orange axe off of his back and unfolded it; the Flame Tempest, as he searched around. Slowly, he tilted his head toward the ceiling. Seeing this, the other four hunters did they same.

Above them were glowing, purple lines and symbols.

"Move…MOVE NOW!" Thardus roared. Instantly, everyone dove outward. Just in time, as the blue/red shape of the twisted leech flopped where they had been just a second before.

The Gigginox wasted no time on a prelude. It immediately turned toward Michael, his armor's reactor no doubt blazingly bright to its thermal senses.

Its maw jutted forward, stretching like a rubber-band. The Astartes quickly dropped his axe and caught the head. He gave a mighty heave.

But this thing wasn't a Great Jaggi. Its mouth stretched this way and that, but didn't show the slightest bit of strain. Rancid breath flowed onto his helm, quickly making Michael thank the Throne that he had atmosphere scrubbers in his cover.

Suddenly, the overgrown leech-frog took a deep breath and exhaled. The air around them took on a purplish hue as noxious gases permeated it. A sudden crackling sound filled Michael's ears. Horrified, he realized that the armor over his hands was blackening, even the armor further from the beast's maw began losing its crimson luster.

Abruptly, a monster's head slammed into the Gigginox's neck, accompanied by a gout of fire. No…not a head…a hammer!

The creature's head snapped backward with an audible crack and a pained gurgle. It tore out of Michael's hands with enough force to knock him over. Max immediately followed up with a blow from his weapon, the Iron Striker, which was followed by a strike from Cydni. Curved hooks erupted from her massive silver blade just before it hit. The sword mutilated the beast's side, eliciting a scream and an unholy deluge of monster blood. Small lights flew through the air, revealing themselves as miniature drill equipped rockets just before hitting.

Thardus, however, simply stood above Michael, panting heavily, his palms opening and closing. His face was hidden beneath his helmet, so the Space Marine knew not what his expression was.

Abruptly, he gave a mighty uppercut with his Haracrun hammer, knocking Michael back onto the ground. Without a word, he turned to the beast and entered the battle with a warrior's roar.

Michael's soul erupted into absolute, unequalled rage. For now, he would focus on the battle. But Thardus would have the Warp to pay afterward.

Gripping his axe, he literally leapt into battle, fueled by a berserker rage. With a single slash, the outside fourth of the Gigginox's wing was lopped off. The thing whined pitifully, but it still had fight left. It flung the injured wing backward. Both Cydni and Michael, expecting to be thrown back, braced themselves. But instead, they stuck to the underside like Velcro. The monster then jerked forward, sending both of them flying twenty feet, sliding through the ice and fetching up against a wall.

Michael, immediately rose, but gave Cydni a concerned look when she did not.

"Are you alright, Cydni?" he asked.

She slowly got up. "Hrm…yeah, but boy am I gonna feel that one in the morning." With a degree of difficulty, she picked up her Ravager Blade and walked back toward the battle. Michael had no need to, he held his Tempest with an iron grip.

Over in the thick of the fight, it was a losing battle for the 'Nox. Injuries began taking their toll, and more came with every second. It apparently knew this. It crouched and jumped, briefly spreading its wings before sticking to the cave's ceiling, attempting to make a retreat. Jazz took careful aim with his bowgun, the needle-like barrel tracking its movement.

But before he could fire, Michael threw his switch axe. It caught just below the beast's collar bone, or whatever equivalent it had. With an almost human scream, it fell back to the floor back first. Before it could right itself, Thardus slammed down in a godlike smash with his hammer.

The Gigginox's head exploded. Glowing purple pieces and chunks of red pulp flew in every direction.

A few moments later, the Rathbane stood around the body, their weapons sheathed and helms removed, and caught their breath.

Thardus walked over toward Michael, his face twisted in anger. The other matched his expression.

"You arrogant son…of…a…bitch," he said quietly and deliberately. Michael snarled, trying to decide what was the best way to beat Thardus into a bloody pulp.

"You should be mindful of what you say to a Space Marine," he said warningly.

"I'll be mindful of what I DAMN well wanna be mindful of!" Thardus roared. "You may not realize it, but you aren't the only one here! Did you really think that little stunt was a good idea? You think you were the only one affected? That the Gigginox could only hurt one person at a time?"

At that, Michael stopped. He had noticed that Max seemed to be standing lopsided, like one leg was injured. Cydni's once blue armor was almost completely black with acid burns. Even Thardus had multiple scratches on his armor, and seemed to be favoring one shoulder.

In the heat of it, Michael had not forgotten that he was alone. What he did forget, however, is that these hunters were not Space Marines. He said nothing.

Incidentally, neither did Thardus. He merely stomped away. As he passed the dead monster's body, he paused just long enough to snap off a small vestigial spike off of the foot of it. It was normally englobed in flesh, but the foot had been torn open by a hammer blow. The talon would be needed for proof of completion.

Not knowing what to say, the other hunters filed silently after him. Leaving Michael standing there, his massive hands clenching and unclenching…


	7. Gluttony Part 1

The Hunting Raven

Chapter 7 part 1

Gluttony

Michael's eyes slowly opened to the light filtering through the still un-curtained window. After the incident the week before, he hadn't allowed himself to sleep deeply. He rose from his position on the bed, his armor clanking audibly as he did.

Mentally, he steeled himself. Today was the day; the day that they would hunt a beast of evil that Michael himself had thought could only be produced by the Warp.

He remembered the scene (quite vividly) that had ensued when the group had scouted out what they were hunting today…

* * *

Michael crouched behind the other hunters, causing the gravel beneath his boots to crunch loudly. Thardus turned to give him an irritated look before looking back toward the green lizard-bird below them, as they were at the edge of a small cliff that overlooked this apparently common landing area for Qurupecos.

From the look on his face, Thardus was not forgetting about the Gigginox incident any time soon. It was odd, none of the other hunters were angry about it, but they seemed to avoid talking to him now.

Then there was the woman beside him. The spikes of her custom built Gobul armor glinted menacingly. Her hand rested near the handle of her dark switch axe, the Soulbreaker. The incident had only given her even more reason to distrust him. He could see the tension on her face, though it faced bolt forward.

Meanwhile, Michael began growing impatient watching the Qurupeco. It was one thing to hide and wait for an ambush…but they were just here to observe.

"Where is i-" he began in an irritated voice. But he silenced even before everyone turned to shush him. His sharp, cybernetically enhanced ears heard something. It sounded like a rhythmic pounding, like that of a blacksmith's hammer, but it was too even for that. It almost sounded like…footsteps?

Then the others began to hear it as well. With a hurried clanking sound, they faced forward again, each pulling binoculars up to their faces. Michael merely touched the side of his helmet, zooming in his vision. The Qurupeco looked around nervously, its tail began to open into a fan shape.

Then, a looming shape appeared on the crest of a nearby hill…a massive, green shape. As it ventured closer, Michael's look of disgust deepened.

The monster was clearly worthy of the title Warp-spawn. Sharp spikes protruded from its massive chin like deformed, mutated teeth. Muscle and fat alike rippled along its hideous length. Two skinny legs popped out from underneath, but Michael could see the corded muscle that writhed underneath its vomit colored skin. Acidic saliva dripped from its wretched maw, dropping to the hot, dry sand with a hiss. Its useless forearms twitched against its chest. The jagged form of a scar traced its way across the beast's face.

Abruptly, the creature reared up, unleashing a roar that penetrated down to the very marrow of Michael's bones. Max, Marina, Cydni, and Jazz all shivered. Only Thardus remained still, his hands clenched into tight fists.

With a panicked squawk, the 'Peco reared backwards and into the air, desperately trying to gain altitude. The Wandering Demon below crouched and did something that Michael would never have expected.

It pounced.

It seemed almost impossible, but the beast practically flew! As it arched back toward the earth below, its deadly jaw jutted outward, striking the fleeing birdlike reptile and flinging it back to the ground. Once there, it wasted no time. The rows of teeth within the beast tore into the still very much alive Qurupeco, tearing a hunk out of its stomach.

The 'Peco screamed.

There are few things that are capable of chilling an Astartes to his bones, and that sound was one of them. A scream of mortal agony that could not possibly be heard anywhere (or from anything) else. Unbidden, images flooded into his mind.

_A human mother stood before him, her hand held up in futile defense. The scream from her throat mixed with that of the Qurupeco, they harmonized together, creating a song of the insane, a melody of the damned._

Michael shook his head angrily. He would _NOT_ let this get the best of him!

As he looked back at the scene, he was shocked to see that the Deviljho was already almost finished. A wing disappeared slowly into its mouth with each snap. All that was left on the ground was a giant, red blot. Even the bones had been eaten.

Then the ever-ravenous monster turned, catching the whiff of a potential meal. It slowly turned its evil, beady eyes up to the cliff, licking its spike covered lips clean of blood. Cydni slowly brought her binoculars down away from her face.

"Thardus," she said in a nervous singsong voice.

"We're fine," he said tightly, not taking his eyes off of the monster. "He can't reach us up here."

"Uh, boss?" Max said nervously. "You may wanna look down."

Thardus did so, and quickly turned toward Michael, fear in his eyes. Once he had moved, the Space Marine saw why. A long, ragged crack ran from the edge of the cliff down where the Rathbane leader had been squatting only a moment before. It ran from the edge all the way…

…all the way to Michael's right boot, straight down the middle of where the Rathbane were.

"Oh…shit…" Jazz murmured from the side, his face was serious for once.

Down below, the Deviljho decided to jump against the cliff at that exact moment, jarring it with an immense impact. The outcropping of rock that the Rathbane was sitting on let out an ominous icrack/i.

There was just enough time for everyone to look at each other.

"Oh shi-"

The rock gave out, dumping everyone toward the waiting maw of the Deviljho. Michael's instincts kicked in. Immediately he grabbed at the blurs of blue, tan, and green around him before jabbing his hand straight above him.

Their descent halted. Down below, the Demon received a mouthful of rocks and sand instead of meat, throwing it into a raucous fit of coughing and sneezing. Looking back up with an impatient growl, the thing stalked off, deciding that the small morsels weren't worth the trouble.

Only once the monster again crested the hill did the Rathbane resume breathing and tear their gaze away from the ground. That was when they noticed their new predicament.

"How the hell did we get like this?" Jazz demanded from off to the side, he was hanging over Michael's shoulder.

"Michael…how did you do that?" Cydni asked from behind, holding on only by wrapping her arms around his neck, squeezing the flexible material between his helmet and breastplate. Then she noticed the straining sounds coming from him. Holding up all these people couldn't be easy.

"Hey, however he did it, I ain't complaining," said a voice from below. Everyone looked to Michael's other arm, startled. Then they relaxed once they saw Max. It seemed that the Astartes had been off a bit, grabbing Max upside-down instead of right-side-up. Marina held on to the plates on his elbow for dear life. Thardus was slung over Michael's other shoulder.

"As impressed as I am with that," Thardus said. "I'd be even _more_ impressed if someone came up with an idea out of this…now."

With that, Michael's tender grip on the cliff slipped somewhat, causing Cydni and Marina both to yelp and squeeze even tighter. Not a problem in Marina's case, but the other happened to be squeezing his neck. He let out a gagging sound.

"Oh, sorry," she apologized and loosened her death grip.

"Right," Thardus said, glancing downward again through his helm. "Now then…any ideas?"

* * *

Getting out of that had not been easy. Astartes muscles felt soreness for a much shorter time than normal humans,' typically only an hour or two. In this case though, it had lasted for almost the entire day.

As he walked to the planning room, Michael thought over his short-lived reaction during the Qurupeco's death. How was that still affecting him? It had been odd enough for him to have the nightmare occur in the first place…but now it was resurfacing? It couldn't be a good thing, especially not when it could happen in battle. But why was it happening? Could it simply be his long time away from his battle-

_THUNK_.

Abruptly, the only thing Michael could see was white plaster and brick. It would seem that he was so lost in thought that he had forgotten to duck in order to enter the room. He stepped backward and entered the room correctly, noting the new indent around the door. It was shaped a lot like him…

Every last person in the room was staring at them. He stared back levelly, ignoring the slight discomfort. Cydni had her mouth covered, looking like she was about to explode.

"Well," Thardus said, clearing his throat. " You…eh…sure know how t' make an entrance, eh Michael?" Cydni made a coughing sound behind her hand, which both chose to ignore.

Michael sighed inwardly, renewing his steele that he had mustered before.

It was time to begin the hunt.


End file.
